How Crazy Are Southerners About Eating Fried Dough Sticks?

Who can resist a freshly fried youtiao?

Stretched dough pieces paired together, bobbing up and down in the boiling oil, then drained of excess grease—this is when they're at their best. A bite into the crisp outer layer produces a satisfying crunch, followed by the soft yet chewy core. The harmonious blend of oil and carbs creates an irresistibly crispy delight.

Youtiao, the eternal star of breakfast stalls.

Photo/lucky, a devoted wife photographer.

Such a hearty energy bomb seems tailor-made for northerners. Picture those baskets of glossy, upright youtiao at breakfast stalls, paired with soy milk, tofu pudding, or spicy soup, or even rolled into jianbing guozi—all utterly delicious.

Southerners are no less enthusiastic about youtiao. After all, the legend of "deep-frying Qin Hui" (the dish's origin story) originated in the south, so it’s only fitting they’ve devised countless ways to enjoy it. In the gentle Jiangnan region, youtiao is paired with sticky rice or flatbreads, doubling the energy and joy. In the fiery southwest, it’s dipped into broths for a tender chew. And in the hands of meticulous Cantonese cooks, even twice-fried youtiao gains rich depth.

The combo of flatbread and youtiao is ubiquitous in the south.

Seeing these youtiao that can be rolled, stuffed, dipped, or soaked, one can’t help but ask southerners: Is your imagination truly endless?

Who says southerners don’t love carb-heavy flavors?

"Youtiao x carbs" will always reign supreme!

Rumors claim southerners prefer light flavors, but not when it comes to youtiao. Despite their love for soups, they defy expectations by pairing youtiao with carbs for a full-on feast.

In the damp, chilly early spring of Jiangnan, stalls selling cifan tuan (sticky rice rolls) are traps for cold-averse southerners.

"Ci" means sticky rice; cifan tuan, or sticky rice-wrapped youtiao, is a popular Jiang-Zhe snack. The rice is kept warm in wooden tubs, wrapped in towels. When ordered, a fist-sized portion is scooped, paired with an extra-crisp twice-fried youtiao, folded and embedded into the rice, then shaped into a spindle. This heavyweight carb bomb ignites a burst of warmth from throat to stomach.

Sticky rice-wrapped youtiao, freshly made and delicious.

Cifan tuan can be sweet or savory—simply sprinkled with sugar or paired with pickled mustard greens.

Suzhou locals take it up a notch. Sugar is mixed with toasted black sesame for aromatic sweetness; savory pickles are stir-fried with lard and a touch of sugar for a balanced taste. The perfect pairing? A youtiao-stuffed cifan tuan with a bowl of salty soy milk topped with youtiao crumbs and lard crisps—oil meeting oil in glorious harmony, eliciting sighs of "Hai qi de fu de liao!" (So delicious it’s unbearable!).

Cifan tuan + salty soy milk, the golden duo of youtiao and its crumbs.

This tradition travels up the Yangtze to bold Hubei, diving into the vibrant "zao guo" (breakfast) scene. Sticky rice wraps youtiao, generously dusted with sugar, peanut powder, sesame powder, or spiced salt. The rice’s stickiness clings to the warm youtiao, delivering sweetness from first to last bite. Savory versions share toppings with hot dry noodles: pickles, preserved veggies, or sour beans. Some even mix sugar with egg yolk, peanut powder with shredded potatoes, or fuse bacon and cheese—creating a bold, freewheeling feast.

The sweet-peanut flavor is the soul of Wuhan’s sticky rice-wrapped youtiao.

In Taizhou, the same dish transforms into the plump, tender "qie gao" (stuffed rice cake). The wrapper isn’t sticky rice but mochi-like dough, filled with anything from potatoes and pickles to braised pork. Yet, the soul lies in stewed meat paired with youtiao soaked in broth. The chewy outer layer is twisted into an elegant knot, hiding a flavor explosion within.

Stuffed rice cake, plump and chubby like a giant dumpling.

Jiangxi locals love to reverse the norm: using fried dough sticks as the wrapper and glutinous rice as the filling. The rice is repeatedly pounded, rolled in black sesame and sugar to make "mochi." Stretched and pressed onto a hot fried dough stick, then sprinkled with soybean flour and crushed peanuts, it combines chewiness, crispiness, and sweetness—even pulling into strands with each bite. This is the most traditional version, "Fried Dough Stick Wrapped in Mochi," originally called "Mochi Danli." It’s not just a carb bomb—it’s a "carb nuke"!

Sweet glutinous rice-wrapped mochi delivers an energy boost from dawn.

Shanghai cuisine is delicate, yet its "sesame pancake and fried dough stick" combo is bold. The pancake’s soul lies in local scallions and lard, baked on the oven wall, pulled out with tongs, and cooled slightly before sandwiching a greasy fried dough stick. Together, they form what locals call "a pair" of pancake and dough stick. As Eileen Chang described: "Eating them together, the contrast of sweet-salty and chewy-crispy textures makes it entirely different from just having the pancake alone."

Sesame pancake and fried dough stick hold a special place among breakfast’s "Four Heavenly Kings."

Photo/Cherry Wanzi

Wrapping fried dough sticks in flatbread also appears in Suzhou’s "Lotus Leaf Wraps Beauty" and Hangzhou’s "Scallion-Wrapped Dough Stick."

The "Lotus Leaf Wraps Beauty" features a thin pancake as the "lotus leaf" and the fried dough stick as the "beauty." A T-shaped bamboo tool spreads batter into a small round pancake, brushed with sweet sauce before laying a dough stick horizontally—thus "wrapping the beauty." Though similar to jianbing in method, it’s softer, moister, and sweeter. Eating a roll of it in the morning is a classic Suzhou habit.

From name to essence, "Lotus Leaf Wraps Beauty" is refined.

"Scallion-Wrapped Dough Stick" also involves wrapping a dough stick in a pancake but emphasizes scallions. Their addition breaks the monotony of golden hues with vibrant green, sometimes paired with vegetarian "goose." Pressed flat with a small iron spatula, the pancake and dough stick turn thin and crispy. A bite releases chewy texture and rising scallion aroma—truly Hangzhou’s culinary treasure.

For the best taste, pressing firmly while frying is key.

Photo/Tangcu Liqi Yekki

When fried dough sticks meet dim sum, rice noodles, hot pot...

Dipped into broth—sweet, savory, or spicy—the dough stick instantly softens, shedding its greasiness to become tender and inviting. The broth’s flavors seep through its crevices, reaching the palate.

In Jiangxi, dunking dough sticks into noodle soup is the way. Yanshan in Shangrao specializes in "hot noodles"—whether with pork liver, mutton, or pickled greens, the slender noodles unfurl in the broth. A dough stick soaked in the soup tastes fresher than bamboo shoots. Even dry Nanchang stir-fried noodles pair properly with dough sticks and clay-pot soup.

Fried dough sticks with hot noodles—a spicy, irresistible delight.

Wuhan’s breakfast slang includes "get a set": a dough stick with thick fish soup noodles. Fresh river fish, eels, loaches, and shrimp are boiled into a bubbling broth, capturing the Yangtze’s essence. The dough stick, absorbing the soup, becomes a tool to extract the wildest flavors for the palate.

A sip of the dough stick condenses the bowl’s umami.

Fujian’s enterprising folks pair dough sticks with two iconic soups:

The savory "thread-like noodle soup" simmers vinegar-marinated pork, intestines, and seafood in thick broth, showcasing Fujian’s bounty. Dough stick segments, pressed into the soup, turn half-tender, half-crisp, mingling with fine noodles for a uniquely satisfying bite.

The addition of fried dough sticks elevates the deliciousness of the vermicelli soup to another level.

The sweet counterpart is peanut soup. Quanzhou locals say, "Flowers bloom on top, seeds form below; adults and children love it to death," showcasing the Minnan people's mysterious obsession with peanuts. The peanut kernels are tender yet intact, and the milky-white broth is sweet and fresh. Tearing fried dough sticks and soaking them in the soup is the true "old-fashioned taste" of Fujian.

No one can resist the combination of sweet, soft peanut soup and crispy, fragrant fried dough sticks.

In Changsha, people also pair fried dough sticks with sweetness, but not with sweet soup—instead, with sweet fermented rice. First, beat eggs into the bubbling sweet fermented rice, creating swirling egg flowers, and serve a bowl of sweet fermented rice with eggs. Once the aromas of the wine and eggs fully blend, soak the fried dough sticks in the hot sweet fermented rice, letting the wine seep into the crevices. A sip of the sweet wine and a bite of the dough stick create an intoxicatingly sweet and slightly tipsy sensation.

Though delicious, don’t drink too much sweet fermented rice in the morning.

In Sichuan, "spicy" is the dominant flavor everywhere, and "blanching" is the versatile cooking method. Dipping fried dough sticks into a boiling spicy hot pot instantly conquers the palate, setting the entire mouth ablaze and leaving the soup's fiery essence lingering throughout the body, breaking out a sweat. Only with icy jelly can this exhilarating taste be tamed.

The delight of hot pot-blanched fried dough sticks belongs to the bravest spice warriors.

What other creative ways are there to enjoy fried dough sticks?

Dipping in sauce, tearing apart, or eating them the next day.

The practice of "dipping fried dough sticks in soy sauce" baffles northerners, but it’s a "light luxury" experience in the package-delivery region. It’s not ordinary soy sauce but shrimp roe soy sauce recorded in *The Way of Eating*, offering a subtle sweetness that lends a touch of sophistication to the humble dough stick. Pair it with small dishes: fermented tofu, peanuts, and a preserved egg soaking in the soy sauce. Add dried shrimp and seaweed to the dough sticks, pour boiling water, and now the soup is complete.

Dipping in soy sauce is the proper way to enjoy fried dough sticks.

Once-fried dough sticks are reborn through re-frying, becoming "old dough sticks," but they take on new identities in Guangdong and Wenzhou.

Cantonese stuff re-fried dough sticks into rice noodle rolls, naming it "fried duo." The rice noodle rolls are soft and delicate, while the dough sticks are crispy and hearty, creating a refreshing bite. The key is to highlight Cantonese cuisine’s hallmark—freshness—so they’re drizzled with soy sauce and sprinkled with scallions. The cheapest combo embodies the Cantonese pursuit of "killing two birds with one stone."

"Fried duo" should actually be called "fried duo rice noodle rolls."

Wenzhou locals eat "double bubbles." Fresh glutinous rice is soaked for over three hours, steamed to plump perfection—soft, fragrant, sticky, yet firm. Topped with a generous ladle of meat broth, it absorbs the savory, salty flavors. The finishing touch: twice-fried dough stick crumbs, adding a crispy texture to the chewy rice. Even the wealthiest leather factory bosses can’t resist this simple temptation.

Overnight fried dough sticks are the source of the glutinous rice’s captivating layers.

What else can you do with leftover fried dough sticks? Gaoyou locals in Jiangsu use the word "stuff" to describe hollowing out dough sticks and filling them with new ingredients. Wang Zengqi recorded a dish called "meat-stuffed fried dough sticks": hollow out the dough sticks, fill them with minced meat, re-fry, and dip in ketchup. This technique also appears in Cantonese pineapple-fried dough stick shrimp, where shrimp paste replaces the meat and salad sauce substitutes ketchup. The contrast between the crispy shell and soft filling makes it endlessly enjoyable.

Under the crispy exterior of fried dough sticks, anything can be "stuffed."

Fried dough sticks are the simplest presence in the breakfast world. Precisely because of their simplicity, they accommodate countless variations, harmonizing the tastes of north and south, savory and sweet.

The hardest to part with are always the humble yet sublime flavors, and nothing comforts the soul more than soy milk and fried dough sticks.

Rice cakes and fried dough sticks always linger in one's mind.

Text | Yimeng Zhan, Cat Knight

Cover image | Tuchong Creative

This article is original content from [Di Dao Feng Wu].